


some of us love you Achilles, it's not much but there's proof

by ItsAWonderfulLife



Series: Merlin Bingo 2021 [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arguments I guess, Arthur's a mess, Depression, F/M, Fights, Good morgana, M/M, Mental Illness, Merlin Bingo, Modern AU, No suicide I promise it's just referenced, References to Depression, References to Suicide, Suicide mention, Supportive Siblings, TW MENTAL ILLNESS MENTAL ILLNESS MENTAL ILLNESS TW, Uther Pendragon's A+ Parenting (Merlin), mental health, suicide ideation, teenage depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:16:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAWonderfulLife/pseuds/ItsAWonderfulLife
Summary: Merlin Bingo #G5 'Illnesses'After a fight with Merlin, Arthur flees to the only place in the city he can breathe. Morgana helps him talk about his feelings. MASSIVE TW FOR MENTION OF SUICIDE AND DEPRESSION. Nobody dies. Happy ending. Sad fic.
Relationships: Leon/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin Bingo 2021 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119725
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57
Collections: Merlin Bingo





	some of us love you Achilles, it's not much but there's proof

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own BBC's Merlin or any of the characters.
> 
> Suicide and depression aren't things that should be romanticised, and I'm not doing that here. This topic is extremely personal to me and I do not want any of my readers to feel they're alone.
> 
> If you are impacted by ANY of the themes in this fic, please consider ringing a suicide hotline for support and guidance. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines this is a global list, for wherever you are in the world. I love you.

They fought, and Merlin left. These are the only things Arthur is certain of right now, and the only two thoughts playing on a loop inside his normally busy heady. A constant patronising mantra. He left, he left, he left, you fought, and _he left._ He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing deeply against the bile rising in his throat. He pulls on his coat, buttoning it up with trembling hands, and heads to the apartment which once belonged to his father.

“Arthur!” Morgana beams, opening the door. The smile disappears when she sees whatever raw emotion is playing across his face. “Are you okay?”

“I need,” he rasps, “I need to use the roof. Please.”

She shakes her head, concern etched across her face, and clasps the door as though ready to shut it in his face. “No, Arthur. No. Whatever’s going on, it can’t be that bad, you- I thought- no, you can’t do this to me. Let me take you to the hospital. We’ll work it out. Please-”

“Morgana!” he snaps. “I don’t- I don’t want it for that. I wouldn’t. That was a long time ago. I just- I can’t _breathe_ in this city, Morgs. I need some air. Please.”

She sighs and pushes the door open, stepping back to let him in. “I’m coming up with you.”

“Morgana-”

“No, Arthur,” she says firmly, a hand on his shoulder. “I love you, and I won’t judge you, I won’t even listen if you need to – I don’t know, scream or something – but I’m coming up with you. You’re my brother.”

The pain in her eyes is what stops him. She’s the proudest person he knows, and he’s the son of Uther Pendragon. Was. Is. Whatever. She doesn’t do vulnerability any more than he does, and yet here she is, begging him to let her in. His sister. His only remaining family. He draws in a shaky breath, and nods his assent, turning away before she sees the dampness of his eyes.

“Honey?” Leon sticks his head out of the kitchen, a tiny ball of joy with curly black hair sitting on his shoulders and grinning broadly at Arthur with three whole teeth. “Hey Arthur! I’ve made soup, would you like some? Aithusa, say hi to Uncle Arthur!”

Aithusa waves her tiny hands and makes some vaguely excitable gibberish noises, and Arthur waves back, a pang of affection and warmth running through his freezing heart.

“Thanks, mate, but we were uh-”

“Keep it on the stove for us, darling,” Morgana cuts in. “We just have some stuff to talk about. I love you.”

Leon nods, eternally patient and loving. Arthur envies their easy domesticity, their shared vulnerability and openness.

“Okay, will do. Come on, pumpkin,” he beams, pulling Aithusa back into the kitchen for their soup. Arthur smiles in spite of everything.

“You’re so lucky, you know,” he informs Morgana as they climb the ladder up to the roof from the balcony. “You guys love each other so much.”

“So do you and Merlin, idiot,” she huffs, pulling her own jacket tighter around her in the biting night air. “Also I’m freezing my arse off out here, I hope you’re happy.”

“You didn’t have to come out with me!” he huffs.

“I really did.”

They lie on the floor for a while, staring at the sky in comfortable silence and breathing in the fresh air that you can’t find anywhere in the city except up here above the penthouse apartments.

“What happened?” Morgana prods eventually.

Arthur sighs. “He left,” he whispers. “We fought and he- he left.”

He feels the tears clogging the back of his throat, and breathes in shakily, trying to hold them back. The sobs wrack through him anyway, and he throws an arm over his face, trying to hide his crying from his sister. Suddenly, there’s a shuffling sound, and small but strong arms are pulling him up into their embrace.

“Hey,” Morgana whispers, stroking gentle circles into his back. “Hey, come on darling. It’s okay. Breathe with me.”

He does as she asks, and they inhale and exhale together for a few minutes, until he feels his heartbeat growing steadier.

“Thank you,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. I just- he- he knows I can’t just- it’s difficult.”

“What is, my love?” she murmurs, continuing her gentle strokes with one hand and holding his head safely against her chest with the other.

“I- he thinks that just because father’s- Uther’s gone, that I should- I should be able to talk about my feelings now,” he rasps, heaving in a gulp of the fresh air. “He needs someone who isn’t broken, Morgs, he- I- I can’t be what he needs. I just shut down as soon as he started crying. He said I didn’t even act like we were together and I just- he _left_ and-”

“Hey, hey,” she shushes him, wiping at his tears with the edge of her scarf. “He’s just hurt right now, he’ll come back. You love each other, brother dearest. And you’re not broken.”

“I feel it,” he mumbles, staring down at the streetlights below. “Sometimes I feel just as broken as I was back then.”

“You weren’t broken, Arthur,” she insists. “You have a mental illness, and you had just lost your mother. That’s- that’s not broken. You’re not broken. You’re so strong, and so brave.”

“I’m not,” he sniffs. “A brave man would never have tried to do what I did that night.”

“A brave man did, and that same brave man got down because he loved me enough to come back down with me. That same brave man stood there while that _bastard_ screamed in his face, and that same brave man registered with a therapist the next day because his sister needed him to. You will always be the bravest man I know, and I will always need my brother.”

She glares out into the night sky, but he sees her eyelashes flutter closed, blinking back tears of her own.

“Hey,” he nudges her with his shoulder, “I’m here. I’ll always be here. I’m not sixteen anymore, Morgs, I’m twenty-three. I promise, I don’t want that anymore. Even if it’s not perfect, I like my life. I have you, I have an amazing job, an amazing apartment, Mer- I- fuck.”

“Talk to him,” she urges. “I know it’s hard for you to let people in, but please just- consider telling him about it all. He’ll understand.”

“I know,” he mumbles, “I know he will. It’s just hard.”

“I know.”

They stay like that for a while, and then, when Morgana shivers again, Arthur decides they need to go inside away from the cold. He kisses his niece goodbye, and hugs his sister and her incredibly patient husband, before heading off to brave the prospect of a lonely night in his apartment. He hopes Merlin is okay. Tomorrow, he’ll apologise and tell him everything, he decides. Only, when he lets himself into his- their apartment, Merlin’s sitting on the sofa, legs pulled up underneath him and curled up into a tight ball.

“Merlin,” he breathes, dropping his keys and coat and rushing over to kneel in front of his boyfriend. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll let you in, I promise. I need time and- I’m not very- it’ll be hard, and I’ll fuck up. But I’ll try. Just- please. I’m sorry.”

“Arthur,” Merlin interrupts, pulling him up to sit beside him, and holding his face with shaking but gentle hands. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I know it’s hard for you, and I know you love me, really I do. I’m sorry- I was so tired. I want to be here, and I’m willing to be as patient as you need me to be.”

“I love you,” Arthur whispers, kissing his apologies into Merlin’s skin, gentle reminders pressed against his lips, his nose, his forehead, his jaw. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Arthur nods to himself and pulls back hesitantly. He takes Merlin’s hands into his own and starts to tell him as much as he’s able to. They sit there for three hours before Merlin pulls him along into their bedroom, where Arthur falls asleep wrapped safely in Merlin’s arms.


End file.
